Chapter VIII

"Load the luggage into the carriage and saddle one of the packhorses for me. Today I ride." It was a cool morning, and Joachim observed his breath fogging in front of his chilled nose as he tugged on a pair of leather riding gloves. He would be glad to put Brandenburg and its surreal memories behind him. Walter had left him the previous evening after Joachim had pleaded for permission to return home. The older vampire had honored his request, though with reluctance.

"There is someone I need to speak with, if only to tell her goodbye, and… that I love her."

Walter cast his eyes heavenward and sighed in disgust, "Very well. However, I have told you that all relationships prior to your new life must be ended out of pure necessity. You'll only bring unnecessary grief upon yourself."

Joachim laughed bitterly, "Unnecessary grief? I have known her face my entire life. If I leave now, I will always have regrets."

"On your head be it."

One of the stable boys coughed, "Milord, your horse is ready."

Joachim shook his head, dispelling his thoughts, and turned to the boy with a smile. "I thank you." he said sincerely. The boy stared at him for a moment before ducking into a clumsy bow and darting off.

The physician had examined him again this morning, surprised that he was strong enough for travel. Joachim had thought his father would perish from surprise when he had observed his son leaping down the stairs and running through the courtyard without the use of his cane. Karl did not question this turn of events, though he did shudder at the unnatural sight. The Baron's attitude towards Joachim had not changed, however.

As Joachim was swinging one leg over the saddle, he heard his father's voice. "It's useless, you realize." Karl sneered. "Show them kindness and they will do their best to trample your authority. See the look on that one's face?" he laughed harshly. "He thought you were either insane or propositioning him." The terrified demeanor he had displayed the previous evening had dissipated as quickly as the early morning dew, and his tongue was remarkably sharp.

Joachim colored for a moment before settling himself into the saddle, absently stroking the mare's neck in an effort to soothe her. She knew that the creature which sat atop her was not human, though it moved like one and appeared like all the rest. It did not smell like a human. The horse whickered uneasily and stomped the hard packed earth in agitation. "Hey, hey. Easy girl, easy. I'll not harm you." Joachim soothed as she turned to regard him warily with one dark, intelligent eye. She huffed once more, and tossed her head, as though saying, "Can you blame me?"

Joachim righted himself and exhaled. What now? How does one ride a horse? It cannot be too difficult, right? He pressed his knees against the mare's flanks and made the clicking sound he often heard his father use. The horse swiveled one of her ears backwards and then proceeded to ignore him. Momentarily defeated, Joachim chewed at his lip as he gathered the reins up tightly and dug his heels in behind his mount's girth.

The surprised horse instantly shot forward, and Joachim was nearly thrown from the saddle. He yelled once in astonishment before the mare's neck smashed into his face, bloodying his nose. He dropped the reins and grasped the horse's mane tightly in his fingers as she pounded through the crowd of servants who abandoned their tasks to leap out of harm's way. He caught the sight of startled, amused, and flabbergasted faces as his horse charged through the compound and out the gate. Karl Armster had stared, dumbstruck, before bellowing, "What in Hell are you doing, you stupid boy?" The aged Baron goaded his immense black charger into a gallop and pursued his son, who was now lost among the city streets surrounding the palace. Karl gritted his teeth and vowed to beat his son to within an inch of his miserable life if the horse did not succeed in killing him first.

Joachim was terrified, more so than when Walter had assaulted him. The horse's hooves pounded the hard packed earth of the city streets, and pedestrians screamed and quickly moved out of the path of the rampaging mare. The sight of buildings, stalls and faces moving by so quickly made his stomach turn, and he shut his eyes tightly. "Please stop! Horse! Stop!" he yelled desperately. The horse whinnied and snorted at the terrified people surrounding her, but she did not slow her pace, and soon she had taken Joachim completely out of the city.

When he looked about once more, he saw fields on all sides. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed the dwindling sight of the palace and its walled city. Joachim groaned and carefully gripped the saddle as he straightened himself and slipped his boots securely into the stirrups. This is not so bad! The mare seemed to have calmed, and her gait was slowing as she realized that this was the way home. Home meant a warm stall, fresh water and oats. It also meant that she could be rid of this bothersome creature clinging stubbornly to her back.

Joachim laughed aloud as the wind whipped through his hair and cloak, but his laughter faded as he heard another set of hoof beats, and the voice of a very displeased Karl Armster. "Grab the reins! Fool boy! Grab the damned reins and pull on 'em!" he shouted. Joachim froze for a moment before leaning once more over the mare's neck and reaching for the reins that dangled just out of the reach of his straining fingers. He cursed and stretched a bit farther. Almost…

The mare leapt to avoid a rut in the road, and Joachim's heart stopped as he was thrown completely from her back. The sound of hooves faded as he watched the ground reaching up towards him, and he closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth as it hit. Joachim rolled for a bit, bouncing painfully over the hard earth until he came to a halt, the breath knocked completely from his lungs. Karl reached him a moment afterwards, leaping from his horse and kneeling beside his son's still form. His rough hands turned Joachim over as Karl examined the boy's neck to make sure it had not broken in the fall. Joachim's eyes opened, and he grinned sheepishly at his father's angry expression. Karl was not amused.

The old man did not speak, instead his hands flexed tightly around his son's neck, and Joachim watched dispassionately as Karl wrestled with the urge to throttle him to death. Joachim grasped his father's wrists and twisted, forcing the Baron to relinquish his stranglehold. He rose to his feet in a fluid movement, graceful as a cat, grasping his astonished father's collar and hauling the old man up with him. Karl's mouth opened and closed, reminding Joachim of the time he had witnessed a fish being pulled from a barrel before the cook decapitated it with a cleaver.

He smiled disarmingly, and threw one arm around his father's shoulders. "Father, I have been thinking," he said brightly, "that I should love to learn how to ride a horse! I do believe that was the most terrifying episode of my life!"

It was a few hours before Joachim's wish was granted. His father had been eager to be out of his presence, and the old man had leapt atop his mount and set off whence he came. Joachim sat quietly beneath the budding branches of an immense rowan and napped while he waited.

Rowan, said to protect against malicious demons and unquiet spirits if placed over the doorframe of the home.

He stood, stretched, and idly stroked one of the buds, noting that the miniscule, tightly curled flower was already sending its fragrant perfume into the air. Disgruntled, he sat once more, wrapping the thick folds of his cloak around his body as he struggled to swallow a yawn. Walter had warned him that he would oftentimes feel groggy during the day, since a vampire's nature was nocturnal. The fledgling had not yet found an opportunity to accustom himself to this, and was stubbornly persisting in retaining his diurnal lifestyle. Maybe I should have taken the damn coach after all, though I fail to see how sleep is possible when the teamster seeks out every rut in the road.

Where is the old man? How long does it take to fetch a horse from the stables? It isn't as though he walked! He probably means to be cruel by unsettling me, but he shall find me in a less hospitable mood than when he departed!

Joachim stood and shook his head to ward off the persistent lethargy. He huffed and stamped his boots irritably, a furrow cleaving his brow as he paced beneath the tree. "Well, isn't this lovely?" he grumbled.

"Were you not supposed to be on your way home, Joachim? Or have they forgotten you already? Poor little boy."

Startled, but not particularly surprised, Joachim looked upwards as Walter tossed down the buds he had plucked from the tree. "Do you have any reason to be doing that?" Joachim queried, perturbed that the vampire had ruined not only his solitude, but the tree as well. The older vampire grinned and shrugged carelessly. "I am bored and it provides a momentary distraction. What other reason do I need? Pity that I did not hit that insolent mouth of yours. Really, Joachim. You need a few lessons in respect."

Joachim's mouth turned upwards, "I give respect wherever it has been earned, Walter." he stepped out of the way as Walter descended nimbly from the branches, and swatted at the redhead when he attempted to smear the sap from his fingers onto Joachim's cloak.

"Where did you come from, anyhow?" Joachim asked, curious. Walter brushed his pants off and fastidiously straightened his tunic before replying. "Oh, I have been waiting for you to pass. I watched as you fell from the horse, did you not hear my laughter? And the look on your father's face!" Walter chuckled, "Ah, but that was not so wise, you insolent pup! One would think you possessed no survival instincts."

"How so?"

Walter smirked and tousled Joachim's silver hair. "How is it that a boy on the verge of death miraculously becomes whole again over the space of a few nights? How does a sickly creature who is unable to dress himself without resting between articles of clothing survive a headlong fall from the back of a galloping horse?" Walter seized Joachim by the arm, his fingers easily encircling its width. "And how does so frail a thing as you effortlessly lift a man more than twice his own weight?" Walter released his hold and fixed Joachim with a serious expression. "Tread carefully, Joachim, or these newfound freedoms will be the death of you. You have been unbelievably ignorant this morning, something I do not wish to see repeated. You put yourself as well as I in danger by behaving so rashly, and, mark this, I will finish what I have begun if I must."

Joachim met Walter's stare for a moment before dropping his gaze in embarrassment. He absently dug at the earth with his boot, feeling as though he were once more a child. "I know that you speak the truth, and I realize how dire the situation could become, but I have never known a feeling such as this!"

Walter rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "Power, yes. Mind that it does not corrupt that naïve head of yours." he turned on one heel and strode towards the palace and its surrounding city. "Oh, and how is your nose?" he inquired over his shoulder.

Momentarily startled, Joachim suddenly recalled that he had injured his face, and he wondered why his father had not mentioned it. He prodded at his nose, and feeling no pain, dropped his hand with a shrug, chuckling contentedly at the miniscule flakes of dried blood which clung to his glove. "You're wrong, Walter. Power is not my fascination, but freedom is." Joachim vowed as he watched the vampire's arrogant stride.

He shielded his eyes against the sun's rays and observed his father and the baggage train at last making progress. Walter's retreating figure briefly raised one arm in a salute, but he did not slow his pace. The group approached slowly, and he saw that his father led another horse by its reins. Joachim leapt easily onto the beast's broad back, ensuring that his feet were tucked securely into the stirrups, and the reins coiled tightly about his hands. No more tumbles in the dust.

Karl Armster shot Joachim a disapproving look before turning his head to the side and spitting. "Now pay attention, because I hate repeating myself." the old man grumbled. Joachim smiled sweetly at his cantankerous father, "Now Father, when have I ever given you less than my full attention and consideration?" he crooned.

In spite of Joachim's equine inexperience, their small caravan made decent progress, and the elder Armster decided that it would be best to lodge at an inn for the night. "If we set out at dawn, we should reach the manor by early afternoon." he reassured his men. Joachim apparently did not warrant any reassurance, and he had not received praise for his progress. He wondered if he cared, and decided that it would be foolish to allow the old man to wound his spirit any more than he already had. Instead, he gave his horse into the care of one of the inn's stable boys and grabbed his travel pack from the floorboard of the coach. Let the rest of them smell as though they slept in the stable. There must be some way to procure a hot bath in this place.

Joachim had been surprised when his father had called a halt, pleading poor visibility. The young vampire had been able to easily discern the path before them, and for a moment he felt a swelling of pride and self satisfaction that he, the weakling, was capable of something the rest of these hardy men were not. Then he thought of Norgard, and his soul seemed to collapse in upon itself.

Will she still love me, creature that I am? She is a witch of sorts, so perhaps I stand a chance. I hope so. I hope the love we share is strong enough to withstand this change. If I have gained immortality and find myself unable to share this time with my beloved, than Walter's gift holds no value for me, and I will plead for him to kill me. Life without love. What a barren and pointless existence. I have known it nearly all of my mortal life, and I cannot, do not, wish to imagine or endure such a pain as an immortal.

I still cannot believe that Father has so quickly abandoned his hopes for a healthy heir, but I sha'n't persuade him otherwise!

Shrugging off his thoughts and misgivings, Joachim pushed open the door to the inn's common room, fighting dizziness as the stench of smoke from tallow candles and warm, unwashed bodies assaulted him. His father was already busily haggling with the innkeeper over the price of dinner and lodging.

"I would not give you ten Pfennigs for that swill, nor your ramshackle rooms!" Karl shouted, slamming his fist down on the scarred wooden countertop.

The innkeeper pulled at his mustache in consideration. "Seven Pfennigs." he offered, "I'll go no lower, else you'll surely bankrupt me. Those men-at-arms look damned hungry, and I'll not have 'em eating me out of business! Your rooms are on the second floor, last two doors on the right." he sniffed, wounded.

"I sha'n't be eating! Have one of your workers draw a hot bath and bring it to my room!" Joachim called over his shoulder as he hastily mounted the creaking staircase, eager to be away from the mass of humanity. Apparently this inn also doubled as the village pub, and it was packed from wall-to-wall. This did not bother Joachim, except that the people reminded him of food. He could practically smell the rich fluids running through their veins. One man tilted his head back to drain the brew from his cup, and Joachim stared fascinated at the pulse jumping steadily in his throat.

Shuddering weakly, he climbed the staircase and made straight for his rooms, slamming the door shut and leaning against its bulk wearily. He tossed his pack onto the bed, eyeing it with distaste. It was obvious from the stench that the mattress had not been changed in quite some time, and Joachim's keen eyesight easily picked out the tiny bodies moving amongst the woolen coverings. His lip curled in disgust, "I would rather sleep in the stables, at least the straw is changed regularly." he muttered to no one in particular. The staff had also neglected to empty and clean the chamber pot, and Joachim irritably unfastened the window shutters before leaning over the casement and dropping the pot outside.

Joachim unlaced his cloak and tossed it over the room's single chair as he paced about uneasily, swallowing against the all-too-familiar sensation in this throat and stomach. It had been the crowded taproom which had triggered his hunger, and he was determined to fight it. I will not murder, I will not! He clasped his mother's sapphire earrings, one in each hand, focusing on their comforting warmth as he sank into the chair.

He jumped in alarm when there was a pounding on the door. "Enter!" he called, and watched in relief as two of the stable boys placed a heavy tub of hot water in front of the fireplace. They left as quickly as they had entered, and Joachim snatched up his bag and quickly stripped, tossing his dirtied clothes aside and sinking gratefully into the hot water as he thoroughly soaped himself, scrubbing fiercely with a rough cloth to remove the day's grit from his skin and hair.

He toweled off quickly and slipped into the fresh set of clothes stuffed into his pack. He was relacing his cloak against the chill when there was another knock at the door, which swung open before he had time to reply. Walter kicked the door closed behind him and regarded his surroundings with the same distaste Joachim had displayed. "It's pitiable, is it not?" Joachim queried.

"Indeed." the older vampire replied. With a flourish, he procured a large flask and a cup from somewhere beneath the folds of his voluminous cloak. "I thought" he said airily, "that you might be thirsty. This fine vintage is aged by fourteen years. Then again, it might be slightly younger, or older. I was in a bit of a hurry, you see."

Joachim flinched at Walter's casual tone, but he accepted both flask and cup when they were offered to him. "Drink it quickly, lest it cools and congeals. Cold blood is not so palatable, it sticks to the roof of the mouth, coats the throat. Wouldn't want you to be hacking up bits of blood, would we?"

"Why are you in such a fine humor tonight, Walter?" Joachim asked warily as he uncorked the bottle and poured a cup for himself. He downed the first quickly, and forced himself to drink the second slowly.

Walter waved one hand when Joachim offered the bottle, "Conscientious of you, but no, I prefer to drink directly from the vein. You are quite the strange one, you do realize? I have never heard of a vampire, even a newly created one, sipping mortal blood as though it were a snifter of brandy! You are so very amusing, with your eccentricities."

Joachim grimaced and finished the last of his meal. "And you are quite possibly the most puzzling creature I have ever come across, more bizarre than anything I have read about. You have still neglected to tell me your motivations, Walter." He corked the bottle and passed it and the cup to Walter, who regarded him seriously.

"Perhaps someday, when you are more mature, more accustomed to your new life, perhaps then I will give you an explanation for everything." he said quietly. "But for now, content yourself with what I deem you ready to hear." Walter pushed the mattress out of his way and perched upon the wooden bed frame. "Tell me," he said eagerly, "what changes you have noticed?"

Joachim leaned back comfortably and laced his fingers over his warmed belly. "Where to begin?" he said, smiling. "Since childhood, I have always been weak, and I have relied upon a cane since I first began walking. This morning, I fairly leapt down the stairs, and ran through the corridors of the King's abode like an errant young boy. A fall such as the one you witnessed today would have previously killed me, less exciting situations have brought on attacks which certainly made me wish that I were dead."

Walter motioned impatiently with one hand, "Yes, yes. Even the weakest vampire is more durable than the strongest mortal! Have you noticed anything else? Anything… impossible for a human?"

"Moonlight provides the same illumination as the sun." Joachim told him. "I was surprised when those traveling with me this evening began to stumble and falter, since I could see perfectly." Walter nodded, but his face showed disappointment.

"Ah, well. Perhaps I am being too hasty. Allow me to demonstrate what I mean when I speak of impossible things." Walter turned to face the fireplace, he snapped his fingers briskly, and the logs and kindling burst into flame. He frowned, "That was too simple." He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew into them, as a frigid man will on a cold day. The night breeze instantly became a howling gale which nearly wrenched the shutters from the window. The terrified screams of both horses and men could be heard from below as the unnatural wind tore through the common room and stables. Only Walter and Joachim remained untouched by the tempest; the fire continued to burn, cheerfully popping and hissing to itself.

Joachim breathed out slowly as Walter lowered his hands and the wind died away. "No," he said, feeling inadequate, "I have noticed nothing at all like that!"

Walter shrugged elegantly, "As I said, I am being far too hasty to expect that you would. I shall take my leave now. You may be well satisfied with a single flask of secondhand blood, but I find that I could do with another vintage. Something with a bit of spice, perhaps a drunk from below."

The redhead rose to leave, but as he opened the door he turned to face Joachim. "You will be quite unable to sleep tonight, so I have brought something to keep you occupied." He chuckled darkly and tossed a book onto his charge's lap. Joachim flipped open the cover, and the stolen blood which warmed his veins turned cold and sluggish. Embossed on the title page, in red, were the words Heathen Superstition. The ribbon had been moved, and it now marked the location of the section entitled Vampyres and Unquiete Spirites.

This is my book! From my library!

He looked up quickly to demand what business Walter had at his home, but the vampire had already gone, the door tightly closed and bolted. Joachim clutched at the book and shuddered violently.

Norgard slowly opened the door and stepped unsteadily into Joachim's chambers. Though the unnatural fever from the previous evening had broken, she was still very weak. Cook had been gracious enough to grant her a few days to recover during the Baron's absence, and she had accepted gratefully. She drifted through the room like a ghost, her long hair unbound and silver in the moonlight, her long white shift rustling about her ankles. The fireplace was cold, and the stone floor nearly numbed her bare feet, but Norgard told herself that it did not matter. She moved to the bookshelf and ran her hands over the soft leather spines, noticing that one book was missing. "That's odd." she murmured, "I could have sworn he forgot to take any books, and who would take one in his absence? None of us can read, and it's too stupid to try and sell it. No serf can afford a book. You'd be caught stealing and probably get your thievin' hand lopped off." She felt chilled by a terrible sense of foreboding, and the undeniable feeling that something dark and malevolent had stood in the same place as she, but she was unable to trace its path. "Still too weak for that!"

Norgard frowned, realizing how much Joachim would miss the volume. Impulsively, she crossed the room and unhooked the windows, pushing them open to allow the breeze to enter. She bolted the door and moved to the center of the room, raising her hands slowly. For a moment, nothing happened, but then there came the sound of quiet whispers, almost indistinguishable from the wind. Presently, a figure stood before Norgard, and she greeted the being with quiet respect.

"Sylph of the Eastern Wind, canst thou tell me where my lover's book hath gone?" For a moment there was no answer, then the figure dissipated and its reply drifted to her on the wind, "In its owner's hands, in thy lover's hands.

"How did that happen?" she mused, and started when the Sylph replied.

"The vampire hath given it to him."

Norgard sank to the floor in realization, and burying her face in her hands, she wept bitterly.